


You're Too Far Beyond Repair

by Anonymous



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Angst, F/M, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, and j.d. is a manipulative asshole, guys this is straight up rape, it's not pretty, poor Veronica, read the tags, short fic, therapeutic fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-12 12:13:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13547100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Veronica is done with J.D.'s bullshit. and J.D. is...back on his bullshit. And no matter what he says, they're way past redemption now.





	You're Too Far Beyond Repair

Veronica felt sick to her stomach. After the blow up in the gym, after that fucking disgrace Mrs. Flemming was calling a “rap-sesh” she just wanted to- well it was a little inappropriate to say she wanted to end it all, wasn’t it? But honestly, after having to tear that pill bottle out of Heather McNamara’s hands, she wasn’t feeling very _cheerful._ Heather was the only actually nice Heather; all her malice could be traced right back to Heather Chandler and Heather Duke. Honestly, if she’d never fallen in with the other two Heathers, her and Veronica probably would have been friends in middle school, tagging along to movie nights with her and Martha. And then… J.D. was getting worse and worse. She wanted to believe he was joking, his threats towards Heather Duke just a way to break the tension but…

She hated being alone with him in the car. Her skin crawled as he sent her a smirk across the center consul. He was barely keeping an eye on the road in front of them.

“Why’d you stop McNamara, anyway? Another dead Heather? Sounds pretty great.”

“Fuck off J.D. Heathers not that bad. She’s actually pretty nice.”

He sent her a doubtful look. “Well what about Duke then? From where I was standing, she’s the one who told McNamara to kill herself.”

“J.D.” she began, trying hard not to blow up on him. Before she could finish the thought, they’d pulled up to his house. It hadn’t been her first choice, but she really didn’t want to deal with her parent’s questions. They hadn’t even met J.D., and she doubted they’d be stoked to learn that her new boyfriend was an angsty chain smoking punk. She could just imagine her father’s expression when he saw the trench coat and the messy hair.

They entered the small one-story house and went right to his room.

“Wanna listen to some music?” he asked. She shrugged, and he pulled his music up on his phone. The first note had barely struck when she was filled with rage.

“ _Teenage suicide…don’t do it_ …”

“J.D. that’s not funny!” she snapped. He only grinned at her. She punched his shoulder. “I’ll leave right now, you dick.”

 He sighed, pausing the music, and reached for her with that typical smirk. She let him pull her in for a soft kiss, but before it could turn into something more, she heard his front door slam shut.

“Hey pops, how was work?’ J.D.’s father called out, making a quick diversion towards his son’s room. He burst through the door and took in their position on the bed. “Gee pop, ever heard of knocking? I was busy playing grab ass with my girlfriend.”

She grimaced at his leering grin, but J.D. only sighed. “Young man you know the rules: when company’s over, the bedroom door stays open.”

“So, the judge- god bless him- told those Glen Miller groupies to slurp shit and die!” he chuckled to himself. Veronica extracted herself form J.D.’s arms and scooted to sit up against the headboard, shivering uncomfortably. “You shoulda seen the fireworks. Got it all right here on video. Loaded the upper floors with thermals, set the whole thing off with a Norwegian in the boiler room. Kaboom!” he laughed again. Taking the DVD, he took it upon himself to slide it into the disc slot on J.D.’s desktop.

“Be right back. I need my draw string pants for this one.” He offered Veronica another dirt smile and started retreating towards the hall.

Once he was out of the room J.D. withdrew his pistol from his waistband, where Veronica did not know it had been. He took aim at the computer and fired two shots in quick succession, teeth clenched tight. She yelped, jumping of the bed,

“Godammit!” she father shouted from what she supposed was his own room. “No firearms in the house!”

“Why are you carrying a gun!” she hissed, staring at him with wide, frightened eyes.

“To piss my dad off. It’s funny,” he ground out. He didn’t look very amused though. It baffled her that his father hadn’t been angrier, but then, knowing J.D., maybe this was more common in the Dean household.

“Well it wasn’t funny, you asshole. Why do you even still _have_ that? What if someone figures out about Kurt and Ram?”

“The cops think it’s a suicide. Why would they be looking for a murder weapon?”

She retreated even further from his bed. He stood, as if to pull her back into the bed but she only retreated further. “You know what, I don’t think you even know right from wrong anymore. You want to kill Heather Duke, you’re shooting guns in your own house-“

“Temporary home-“

“Fuck off. Don’t call me, don’t come to my house. We’re done, alright? Just leave me alone. I’ll walk home.”

“What?” he growled. “You can’t just break up with me, Ronnie!”

“Who says?” she spit out, reaching to pick her purse up off his floor.

He reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her back onto his bed. He pulled her in for a hard, bruising kiss. She shoved him away with a sneer.

“Get away from me J.D.”

“You don’t get to just leave me, Veronica,” he said, pulling her in for another kiss. There were more teeth than lips, and she shoved at him again, scrambling out of his arms and across the bed.

He pursued, her shoving her down onto his bare mattress, he sheets coming up during their struggle. While she fought with the sheet he got up and shut and locked the door. She panicked, crawling away as he fell on her once again.

“Get off me J.D. I want to go home.”

“You’re not leaving until I’m finished,” he spat back, yanking her shirt off her shoulder to get unobstructed access to her neck. He sucked and nipped as she struggled.”

“Stop!” she hissed. Her voice was still low, afraid of alerting his father to what was happening, but she felt sick her stomach as he ignored her. She could feel how hard he was against her stomach.

Seemingly frustrated with her non-compliance, J.D. reached up and grabbed at her hair. He slammed her head against his headboard and while she was dazed her started working on her shirt. He pulled it over her head, and her skirt followed shortly after,

“Stop!” she pleaded, shoving at his hands on her thighs.

“Or what, Ronnie? Ya gonna tell on me? Do you actually want everyone to know you killed your best friend?”

She froze. With that he pulled his shirt over his head. She stared at him, eye wide.

He pulled the zipper of his jeans down and lined his hips up with hers.

“You can’t leave me, Ronnie. We’re in this together,” he whispered at he moved closer. She was dry, frozen with terror, and when he entered her the friction did nothing but hurt. Their past couplings had been rough as well, both liking a little pain with their pleasure, but this was different. She’d asked him to stop, pushed him away, and he hadn’t even listened. She was still and silent beneath him as he pumped in and out, rougher than usual, shaking her with his force, He looked a little frustrated at how unresponsive she was.

“Baby, come on. We’re forever, right? Our love is God! Please, don’t leave me alone. You can’t leave me like my mom did.” He rested his forehead on hers and stopped his motions inside of her. And she couldn’t help it, she melted, feeling his pain as strongly as she felt her own.

For all that he’d done wrong, Veronica knew he was just broken, damaged. She felt the tears slide down her cheeks as she wrapped her arms around him. With her acceptance, he resumed his movements, less rough, his hand whispering over her skin on its way to her clit. She tried to relax into it, knowing there was no way she’d be able to. He was- he was…she’d said no, and no matter how bad she felt for him, he’d crossed a line. She felt nauseous again, felt like she wanted to scrub the skin off where ever his hands had made contact.

He finished what felt like an hour later. It was probably only a few more minutes, but the look on his face was contrite. She swallowed the vomit making its way up her throat.

“I’m so sorry, Ronnie,” he whispered. “I couldn’t control myself.”

She moved away from him, wanting to cry when she felt the wetness dripping down her thigh. “It’s alright,” she lied. “I- I promise I won’t leave.”

She understood exactly how someone would swallow a shitload of sleeping pills right now. All she wanted to do was lie down forever. She turned onto her side and closed her eyes, ignoring the arm that J.D. slipped over she stomach, breath heavy on the back of her neck.

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so, like I said in the tag, this is straight up rape. Veroinca is very clear that she does not consent, and like the monster he is, J.D. doesn't care. Please consider if you can handle this before reading. Also, I wrote this during a really dark time in my life so, hopefully you understand. I really wanted to depict the forgiveness you feel sometimes for an abuser, as if their pain makes it alright to cause you pain. Basically this is not a great thing to write, but I desire validation, so, what do you expect. When I was younger, I fucking worshiped the relationship between these two, and only now do I realize how fucked it really is. Anyway...thanks for reading I guess?


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